


Blurred Fantasies

by TheQueenOfFish, thorkified



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Camboy Peter, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Kink, Fluff and Angst, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Porn Watching, Secret Crush, Secret Identity, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, Underage - Freeform, questionable morals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17310086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenOfFish/pseuds/TheQueenOfFish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorkified/pseuds/thorkified
Summary: Tony shouldn't have become addicted to this boy's stream or the fantasy he spun around him, that it's actually Peter and not a stranger, but he couldn't help it. Especially not after requesting a private call from the boy, which makes all of this spiral out of control.What Tony doesn't know is that he's not talking to a stranger at all and that his perverted little fantasy is anything but that.





	1. Chapter 1

Browsing the internet to find material to jerk off isn’t anything new for Tony, but that he actually dug deep enough to find this camboy’s stream surely is. It might not be his lowest point in life when he listens to this barely legal boy moan and projected his own fantasies onto him, but it comes pretty damn close. But it’s better than acting out on those thoughts, better than doing something dumb and definitely better than walking around with blue balls because that’s a problem he’s been dealing with ever since a certain friendly neighborhood spider named Peter had shown up on stage.

Tony quickly finds himself coming back to this boy’s stream, not without showing his gratitude of course. At least his money is good for that, if he can’t ease his need any other way. It takes less than two weeks before Tony becomes the boy’s top donor and he enjoys it greatly. Sure, he’s not who Tony likes to imagine he is, but by God, this boy is incredible and that’s better than nothing. He actually manages to be calm enough around Peter to be comfortable, that’s worth a few hundred bucks every now and then. And, since the boy only ever shows himself neck down, it’s easy to imagine him as someone else.

Eventually, Tony requests what he knew he would request from the moment he saw the boy for the first time. A private call, without all the others in the chat requesting him to do things. He is possessive, always has been, and he wants the boy for himself.  _ All  _ for himself. It’s an expensive treat, a luxury that is a first for Tony. There’s a certain amount of shame coming with it, but it’s not as if it’s the worst he’s ever done, is it? The boy is eighteen, maybe nineteen from what he knows. It’s perfectly legal even if it’s not in his head because his mind insists on his little fantasy despite knowing better. 

He’s in his lab when he takes the call, a one-sided video call that he is allowed to record - for an addition two hundred, but who counts, right? The second the screen flickers and the boy’s body appears, Tony knows he’s in for a good time. The boy wears a black robe, one Tony has seen before and knows he uses as a tease, and one of his small hands rests on his chest. But this isn’t what makes his breath hitch right away, no. It’s the voice coming through the speakers; soft and sweet and utterly alluring.

“Hey there.”

Tony takes a sharp breath, hissing through his teeth before replying.

“Hey baby. What should I call you?”

He can see the shudder going through the boy’s body, something that makes his cock twitch slightly. It’s the first time he hears him and Tony’s voice is anything but appropriate at the moment, so he’s not surprised by this reaction. What he is surprised by, is that the boy’s next words come out trembling, almost cautious.

“Whatever you want, Daddy,” the boy breathes, tensing slightly as if he’s anticipating an answer.

“Peter.” Tony gasps the name, glad that the boy can’t see his face because it feels like it’s burning. “Can I call you Peter?”

\---

He’s going to die. Peter… he wants to call him Peter. His breath hitches when he purrs “Of course, Daddy.”

This is bad on so many levels. He would recognize this voice anywhere, has heard it countless of times through the phone. Unlike him, Tony doesn’t bother altering his voice, so the first word alone was enough for him to know who he’s talking to. His face is flushing hard and he bites his lip, curiosity guiding his next question.

“What should I call you? And who’s Peter?”

It could still be coincidence, right? Maybe Mr. Stark knows a different Peter, maybe he’s imagining things because this is like his wildest dreams come true in the most wicked and filthy ways. Maybe it’s all different than he thinks…

\---

Tony lets out a growl, groping his cock through his jeans.

“He’s this cute piece of ass I can’t get out of my head,” he groans, rubbing himself with his palm as Peter’s face flashes before his eyes. “Not legal, too young for me… but fuck, I want him.”

Saying it out loud makes his cock almost jump in his pants. God, he wants the boy, he really does. It’s all he’s been thinking about for months and it drives him insane.

“Call me Daddy… or Mr. Stark.”

Giving away his name like that, what a way to hide his identity. But he doesn’t care, he wants the boy to say it, wants to hear him call him the same thing Peter calls him all the time. 

\---

He feels like he’s going to faint.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

“Okay, Daddy,” he murmurs, unable to call the other ‘Mr. Stark’. The idea alone makes him want to scream, it’s just impossible. But he has to know how he wants him to act, has to know how he sees him. It’s all he can think about. “Anything you want me to do? How do you want me to act?”

It’s a wet dream coming to reality, nothing else fits this moment. This voice so close to his ears, the heavy breathing, the gasps and the shaking voice… it’s everything he ever imagined it would be and ten times better.

\---

“Innocent,” Tony breathes, fiddling on his jeans to relieve some pressure on his hardening cock. “I don’t think he ever fucked himself properly, so just act more innocent than you already do.”

When the response comes, it’s in a soft voice that makes his ears ring.

“Of course, Daddy.”

He can’t take his eyes off the screen, of those hands lingering on the boy’s chest; so pale and tender looking, clearly hands like Peter’s. Innocent, yes. Fuck, the boy looks so innocent and sweet, it drives him mad. It’s so easy seeing Peter in him, so easy to let his mind drift and give into those filthy ideas that are tormenting him for so long now. He forgot weeks ago how often he scolded himself for thinking like this. It’s a fight he has lost from the very beginning already, without even realizing it.

“Hey Peter, how about you take that robe of?” Tony asks sweetly, finally freeing his cock and letting out a low moan. “Let me see you.”

How often did he undress Peter with his eyes alone? A hundred times doesn’t even cut it anymore. He regrets the fact he made Peter’s suit so damn tight every second he sees him in it. Then again, he could put the boy in a potato sack and his dick would still try to jump out of his pants at the sight of him. Fuck, he’s so lost, it’s unbelievable.

\---

The boy squirms and brings a finger to his lips. His face is out of the frame, but the little moan he makes gives away that he’s sucking on it.

“I don’t know, Daddy,” he teases, shifting on his bed. “I really shouldn’t…”

Playing innocent comes far too easy for him, especially in this context. There have been days where the innocence wasn’t acted at all, where he was awkward around Mr. Stark, shy even. Now though, it’s a bit of a game for both of them and he can’t deny that the idea of him imagining that he’s Peter is turning him on greatly.

“Come on, Peter,” Tony says, voice husky and thick. “Don’t you trust me, baby? I won’t tell anyone.”

He can’t stay still, shifting on his bed and running a hand down his covered chest slowly.

“I do!” he exclaims, face flushing even harder out of frame. “But if anyone knew you saw you could get into trouble, Daddy.”

There’s a hot knot in his stomach when he says that. When he says Daddy and, more importantly, when he imagines someone finding out about this. Even without knowing his actual age it would be a huge scandal.

\---

Tony shouldn’t have to squeeze his cock so hard at how gorgeous and innocent the boy sounds and he shouldn’t let out such a sinful moan at the thought of how wrong it is that he is so turned on by this fantasy.

“Only if you tell, Peter,” he groans, slowly losing the harsh grip on himself. “Will you tell?”

“Of course not, Daddy!” the boy says immediately, jumping a little. The eager makes Tony’s stomach coil deliciously. “Maybe… I can take off the robe.”

The boy’s hands shove under the black fabric, slowly pushing it down his shoulders. Tony watches in awe as he reveals the black laced bodysuit beneath it, exactly what he has requested he’d wear for this call. His throat tightens slightly at the sight of it, of how the half see-through piece clings to his slender body.

“It’s okay if I’m not naked, right?”

Tony has no words in him. The boy looks so utterly sinful, Tony’s cock is jerking like never before. He can’t stop himself from stroking it, the warmth from his stomach spreading into his chest and loins.

“Do you like it, Daddy?” the boy asks softly, running a hand down his chest to his stomach and back.

“You look good enough to eat,” Tony growls, squeezing his hard on and hissing through the waves of pleasure that rush through his lower half when he just looks at the boy. There’s a new thought, slightly wicked and definitely filthy, but his mind is beginning to fade into his fantasy of watching Peter and he can’t help himself. “Baby… can you touch yourself for me?”

\---

He shudders, curling his fingers against the thin lace. He can feel his heart beat on the inside, so fast he almost expects it to jump out of his chest any second. Tony wants to see him touch himself… he wants to pretend he’s Peter and he wants  _ Peter  _ to touch himself. The thought is so incredibly hot that he can’t help but sigh.

“Only through my clothes,” he breathes, two fingers circling one of his nipples slowly. “You’re not allowed to see me yet, Daddy…”

For a moment he wonders how far he can take it, how much of a tease he can be before Tony loses it. He continues to trail his fingers over his chest, only using enough pressure so that it’s visible he is actually doing it.

“Just a little, baby, come on,” Tony hisses, desperation slipping into his voice. The boy shudders at the word baby, like he does every time Tony says his name too. It feels so filthy and bad, but so amazing at the same time. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“You can see a little through my clothes,” he chuckles, closing his eyes and using his index finger to rub over his nipple carefully. He can feel himself grow harder and harder every moment, his nipples being no exception, and it’s intoxicating like nothing else.

“I want to see your pretty skin.” Tony moans now, a sound so intense it sends shivers down the boy’s spine. “I want to see you touch yourself, baby.”

It’s only a few seconds that he contemplates, but the plea is too good to resist. Tony’s voice is so husky and full of need, it does nothing to calm him down at all. Eventually, he shoves two fingers under the fabric on his shoulder, pushing it down to reveal the skin beneath it.

“Like this, Daddy?” he purrs, sweetly and brushes his fingers over the now exposed skin.

\---

_ Shit, he looks exactly how I always imagined him… _

Tony pulls himself free of this thought, breath unsteady and shallow and far too loud.

“Just like that, baby. Show Daddy a little more…” he wants to see all of him, but this isn’t going to be rushed and he doesn’t want it to be either. This is beautiful like nothing else, it’s a bliss he never knew existed and he wants it to last - preferably forever.

“I don’t know, Daddy,” the boy suddenly says, holding his shoulder with one hand. “Maybe after my birthday…”

Tony knows it’s a tease. It’s a trap designed for him to fall into and he does it so willingly it should be disturbing.

“Your birthday, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the boy says sweetly. “You remember how old I’ll be after my birthday, don’t you?”

Tony’s breath hitches and his heart stops beating for a second.

_ Say twenty-one. Say twenty. Fuck, say eighteen! Don’t say it, don’t- _

“Sixteen,” Tony moans, one word that makes his whole body tremble and his cock leak an insane amount of precum. Sixteen, yes. He will turn sixteen soon. Sweet, sweet sixteen. Tony wishes he could stop himself from thinking about it, from being so aroused by this, but he can’t.

“Oh no, you’ll have to wait then, Daddy,” the boy purrs, fingers gently caressing his skin through the thin fabric. “You remember when my birthday is, don’t you?”

\---

It’s a risky question, one that only proposes one correct answer and he’s both thrilled and excited about what Tony will say. He never struggled so hard to keep himself together, to not touch himself in every way possible to achieve pleasure.

Sixteen… there is only one fifteen year old Peter Tony knows and the thought sends cold spikes down his chest, right into his stomach.

_ Please say it, please, Mr. Stark… say it for me… _

“A-August… tenth…” 

When the words come through the speakers, the boy shudders and lets out a low, pleasured moan. He cups himself between his legs, eyes burning as hot as his cheeks.

“Oh no,” he moans sweetly, pressing two fingers against his chest hard. “That means Daddy has to wait over a year to see me naked. Will you get me a gift?”

\---

Tony can feel his mouth run dry at the questions and, even more so, at the time frame the boy gives. Over a year… that’s when Peter will turn seventeen… the legal age of consent in New York. God, the coincidences are getting too intense. He can barely remind himself that this isn’t actually Peter.

“Anything…” he growls as an answer to the boy’s question. “Anything for you, baby.”

Silencing the voice inside of his head that insists it would be perfect if the boy replied with ‘You, Daddy. I want you.’ is near impossible, but Tony tries anyway. He wants to hear it badly, but they both know that’s just dirty talk that means nothing. 

After a moment of silence, the boy giggles and Tony realizes he has a hard time to control himself.

“Why won’t Daddy send me a mold of his cock?” the boy asks, a question that makes Tony nearly lose it right there and then. He imagines the boy fucking himself on a toy shaped like his own cock, bouncing up and down and moaning as he’s lost in pleasure and crying out his name. Fuck, that’s too much…

“Is that all you want, baby?” Tony manages to ask, but his voice is trembling and not fully there. He already goes through all possible options to fulfill the boy’s wish, fascinated by the idea of seeing what would happen.

\---

Is there any way to deny the selfishness of his request? No, not even if he twists it all in his favor. He can’t pretend he’s just asking for this to please Tony, he wants it so fucking badly it feels like he’s going to go up in flames any second. If there’s anything he want to impale himself on while moaning like a little bitch it’s Mr. Stark’s cock, he knew that for years now.

“Yes, Daddy!” he replied eventually, almost moaning his answer. “I’m too young for Daddy to fuck me, but a dildo is okay, right?” He really wants to know how Tony will react to this idea, to knowing he wants to fuck his dick even if it’s just a copy. But… that’s not all he wants.

Usually, he doesn’t show this part of him. He fucked himself on toys on his stream, he has sucked objects - without showing more than his mouth, of course - but he never did this. Now, though, he gets on his knees and pushes himself up, a low moan escaping his lips.

“Can you see how hard I am, Daddy?”

\---

Tony thought he was strong, but he’s the weakest pervert in history. Despite not even trying, he cums in his hand the moment he sees the boy’s perfect little cock bounce on his screen. It’s too pretty, too sinful and hot in every possible way… Tony can’t hold back.

“Fuck, baby… you’re so perfect and hard for me…” It feels so awful and good at the same time to spill into his hands, all the while unable to take his eyes off the screen and the boy’s beautiful body that he displays so perfectly. “Fuck, Peter…”

It takes him almost two minutes to regain his breath, fully realizing what filthy moans he is sending through his microphone. When he finally leans back, his eyes are still closed and his voice is a raspy, utterly lust-filled thing.

“Please Peter… just one time… let me see you touch yourself.”

At this point, Tony forgot how to even spell the word dignity. He already had little of it left when he allowed himself to indulge in this fantasy, but even the last bits are blown away now and he can’t bring himself to care. 

“You sure it’s okay, Daddy?” the boy asks shyly, drawing the focus of Tony’s eyes back to the screen. He’s covering himself even though there’s no need for it, the hand pressed onto his chest shaking slightly. “I don’t want you to get into trouble, but I want to be good for you.”

“It’s okay, baby, I promise,” Tony purrs, watching those delicate and soft hands trail down the boy’s chest. They are so close and yet so far away from his cock that it makes his chest ache. “Daddy won’t tell anyone.”

\---

Most people would tell Tony that even picturing Peter like this was disgusting and wrong, but the boy ravishes every single word and moan he earns. It sounds as if he’s breathing right into his ear - thanks to the headset he’s wearing - and he’s getting only harder from it.

He slowly starts pushing the body down his shoulders again, this time going for both. He can hear Tony’s breath hitch again and go faster before he murmurs:

“You’re so pretty baby… Daddy is still hard for you.”

Peter lets out a shuddered moan. He pushes the little bit of fabric further down, reaching his chest. His head is spinning and he wishes that Mr. Stark would do this, that he would rip those clothes off of him in a furious rage of desire and overwhelming lust, and it does all kinds of things to him.

“Don’t look, Mr. Stark,” he moans as seductively as innocent, covering his nipples as soon as he exposes them. It’s another tease he can’t help, but Mr. Stark wanted innocent… he gets innocent.

Tony lets out a moan so low, he can almost feel it crawl through his own skin.

“Do I… get to see Daddy’s cock?”

It’s the first time he asks for something like this. Private chats like this are always one-sided, always with him on camera and the other on the microphone only. But he wants it, he needs it. He needs to see Mr. Stark like this, hopefully as hard as he imagines he is.

“Will you show Daddy more if you see it?”

“Yes!” he replies immediately, a weird and thrilling excitement coming over him. “I guess if Daddy shows me his… I can show him mine…”

He’s surprised when the camera suddenly flickers and the image comes into focus. It’s dark for a few seconds, then the lights turn on and he gasps audibly.

_ Oh my God… _

It’s him, there’s no doubt about that. He would recognize the watch alone - it’s expensive and rare, even though it looks normal, and he has seen it countless of times - but that’s not all. The man is holding his cock, as hard as Peter imagined and twice as hot, rough and calloused fingers wrapping around his manhood, a grip he knows from Tony after so much time. He can’t help but lick his lips, swallowing down any comment that comes to his mind.

\---

“You see what you’re doing to Daddy?” Tony moans, stroking himself slowly so the boy can see everything. He’s harder than he has ever been and this is far from the first time he’s going through this, but that doesn’t matter. There is so much at play right now and the boy seeing him is only one of those things that make his erection so intense.

“You like seeing Daddy like this?”

The boy squirms again, hands almost frantically going over his body. Tony is sold, he is so absolutely sold. Everything he ever imagined Peter would be, this boy is. Even the gestures and the sounds he makes - it all just makes him want to have him, more than he wanted anyone else ever before.

“I do, Daddy,” the boy purrs, sliding one hand down and cupping his gorgeously pretty cock. “I… I want to touch myself for you, but I think I have to tell you something first…”

Tony doesn’t know what to say, but he wants to hear it. He wants to hear the words coming out of the boy’s mouth. With all the restraint he has he grabs his cock harshly, growling:

“Tell Daddy,” he breathes huskily. “I want to hear it…”

“I… I stretched myself for you, Mr. Stark,” the boy says, almost moaning when his hand wraps tighter around his cock. “I was so excited, imagining how you would feel inside of me… I had to do it.”

\---

It’s anything but a lie, but he doesn’t know if it makes any of this better or worse. Before this call he had been anxious, so he tried to get himself into the mood and he had found that imagining Mr. Stark fucking him was the easiest way to do this. So it’s not a complete lie, is it?

There’s a deep moan before the beautiful question “Can you… show Daddy?” reaches his ears. The boy shudders, the hand around his cock jerking violently. 

“Oh Daddy,” he moans, slowly moving his hand up and down. “It feels so wrong… I’m only fifteen, after all…”

\---

Tony wants to suppress the reaction those words cause, but there is no way to stop it. His cock jerks, leaking more precum and he lets out a moan so filthy, it embarrasses even himself when he groans ‘Fuck’ along with it.

Why the hell does this turn him on so much? Why is the sheer thought of this boy being fifteen doing things to him no one else ever managed to achieve? Tony knows he’s anything but a white lamb, but this goes so much further than he is used to. This is a place that not even he ever explored.

“Come on, baby, show me...” Tony finally moans, trying his best to ignore all those doubts that run wild in his head. “You want to be a good boy for Daddy, don’t you?”

\---

A good boy! Oh God, yes! He wants to be a good boy for Mr. Stark, he wants to be everything for him. He lets out a quiet moan, groping his cock and squeezing it tightly. With his cheeks blushing he turns around, spreading his cheeks wide for the other to see, moaning.

“Mr. Stark!”

It’s far from the first time Tony sees the boy’s ass, but usually it’s reserved to him taking a toy and riding it slowly, like the tease that he is. Now, though, he makes sure to stay still and show everything, embarrassingly aware of how much he exposes himself with it.

“Fuck… you’re so perfect, Peter,” Tony growls and the boy looks back over his shoulder, only enough to see the screen and to still hide his face. The hand on the man’s cock strokes faster, a deliciously sweet moan escaping his lips.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” Tony suddenly says, a deep rumbling voice that washes over the boy like judgement day. “Daddy wants to see you cum.”

He pushes himself up with his arms and brings a hand to his ass, circling one of his cheeks slowly.

“What toy should I use, Mr. Stark?” he asks, curious about the answer.

\---

There are too many ideas going on in Tony’s head. He loves it when the boy rides his toys, he loves to see his pretty little hole stretched so far he can barely take it and him still fucking himself onto it as if his life depends on it. Still, it’s not what he wants now.

“No toys,” Tony finally growls, slowly stroking his cock. “Just you, baby. Turn around and let me see you touch yourself.”

There's a short pause before the boy turns again, a hand covering his pretty cock.

“But I feel so empty, Daddy!” he whines, a sound that makes every last one of Tony's nerves flare up. Fuck, he sounds beautiful like this, too much to bear. Tony's eyes grow wide when the boy fists his cock, hand jerking desperately. 

“Daddy would love to fill you up, baby,” Tony moans, stroking himself hard at this gorgeous sight in front of him. “Would you like that? For Daddy to fill you up and fuck you so hard you're crying out?”

The boy moans loudly, bouncing on his bed while fucking into his hand. Tony nearly loses it.

“Yes, Mr. Stark! Fuck me, please! I'll be good, I promise!”

It only lasts a few seconds, but Tony doesn't need more. The boy's body shudders, his hand moving less focused, almost sloppy and then he cries out an absolutely pretty 'Oh, Mr. Stark!’ before he spills over his hand and stomach, decorating his beautiful pale skin with white.

Tony growls, fisting himself so hard it almost hurts while his gaze is glued to the boy's trembling stomach, covered with so much cum.

“Fuck, Peter…” he moans when he finally finds release again, spilling all over his hand with the most obscene moan he ever made on his lips. “God, you're so good, baby… so fucking good…”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony can't stop watching the recording of his call with the boy, especially not of the ending. It takes a toll on him and eventually, he has to pay the price for it when he's out with Peter, who is testing out the new shooters he made for the boy.

Tony can barely fall asleep that night, nor the nights that follow in the week after. He keeps rewatching the recording of the call, shamelessly putting the seconds on repeat where the boy cries out his name and jerks off to it, but it helps very little. He just can't get it out of his head or let go of the fantasy that he has built up around this boy.

_ Peter... _

In the week that follows this… experience, in lack of a better word, Tony is going through heaven and hell just the same. He's trying to keep himself together, especially when he's around Peter, who suddenly seems way more handsy than he is used to. Or did he just never notice before? Tony has no idea, but it doesn't change anything. With every touch he can feel his insides burn and it's getting harder and harder to not react.

At night he can't stop himself from falling for the fantasy that he has constructed and goes back, back to this cursed and blessed video and to all those bad things it makes him want to do. It's disgusting how fast he gets off to this boy moaning his name while imagining it's Peter, really. 

Tony refrains from going back to the boy's stream too, even though it itches in his fingers to see him again. He never goes further than checking if he's online, which he is ever night, but that's all he can stomach. 

Thursday night he fails falling asleep altogether, laying in bed and staring at the ceiling. This isn't good. He's supposed to meet the kid the next day, if he can't get any sleep he will surely do something he's gonna regret later.

Five hours later the sun starts to rise and so does Tony, after exactly one hour of dreams he knows will haunt him forever. The boner he wakes up with doesn't help get his hopes up either. What a mess. He has a bourbon for breakfast and nothing else, praying that the day will pass without any problems. And fast. 

Tony hides in his workshop until the afternoon, when Friday informs him that Peter has arrived. He pinches his nose and gets up, taking the improved web shooters he has been working on with him. Maybe they can get this over with quickly, that would be a nice change of events. Tony really doesn't know how he will even react to seeing the boy.

Peter waits in his living room, as Tony expected, and he's anything but hyper. It's rare seeing the boy quiet - sometimes time thinks it's impossible for him to sit still - but today he's just that, looking out of the window without even turning around as he steps in.

“Hey kid, ready to play with your new toys?” Tony asks and at this, Peter does turn around finally. There's a hint of red on his cheeks that makes Tony's chest tighten, but he tries to ignore it as he walks over.

“Y-yes, Mr. Stark,” Peter replies quietly, flashing him a shaky smile. It doesn't manage to come off sincere at all.

“They should shoot much faster and farther now,” Tony says and hands Peter his new accessoires. “I just finished calibrating them, so why don't you try them out right away?”

“Are you okay, Mr. Stark?” Peter suddenly asks, breaking Tony out of his reverie. Shit, he has been staring at the boys lips like a predator without even realizing it. He quickly shakes his head and steps back a bit.

“I'm fine,” he lies and forces his thoughts to go to something that he hopes will overshadow his wish to be reckless. It's of little use. “Had a bad night, that's all. No sleep.”

“Oh, okay.” Peter doesn't ask anymore, but Tony can't help but think this is not the end of it. But Peter surprises him by dropping his backpack and pulling his suit out. 

Tony gives him a chance to change while he walks over to the bar and pushes one of the buttons beneath it, ordering Friday to send one of his suits. He could do that without the effort, but he wants to bring some distance between him and Peter. It's probably not necessary for him to go out too, but he'd rather be safe than sorry.

“Ready!” Peter exclaims just when Tony's suit lands on the roof outside. He puts on his new shooters when Tony turns around and nods. Something has changed about him, but maybe it's just the fact that he's wearing his suit, that always gives him confidence.

“Good, let's see what these babies can do then.” Tony tries to focus on what they're about to do to distract his thoughts from the way Peter's suit clings to his ass and stomach and from how much he wants to run his hands over both and see how fast he can make him moan.

As soon as Tony got into his suit Peter is already jumping off the roof, using his new web shooters to swing himself through the air. Tony can't hold in a chuckle when the boy shouts 'Woohoo!’ and quickly follows him to keep an eye on everything.

“How’s it going, kid?” Tony asks after a few minutes of observing Peter try out various stunts with his new toys, earning a sweet and delighted laugh.

“They're awesome, Mr. Stark! Look how fast they are!”

Peter shoots out a series of webs, much faster than before, and Tony smiles happily. Yes, he did a good job with that one, the kid is fully in his element when- 

It happens so fast, Tony can barely react on time. One second Peter is swinging through the air, she next he shrieks and the web that is supposed to come from his left wrist doesn't show up. And then he falls.

“ _ Fuck _ !”

Tony shoots forward, cursing himself for staying so far behind and allowing this sense of safety to trick him.

“Mr. Stark! They're not working anymore!” Peter's voice is high-pitched and panicking and Tony hates how helpless he feels when he sees the ground coming far too close too fast. He picks up more speed, begging he’ll make it - all the while, listening to Peter's scared cries for help.  


“I got you kid, just a second!” He begs, prays, pleads - anything he can think of.

_ Please let me catch him, please let me catch him! _

They are ten feet above the ground when Tony finally gets a hold of Peter's arm. He has never felt so relieved as he does in this moment, despite the pain filled shout Peter let's out at being stopped to forcefully. Tony hates himself for hurting Peter, but it was the only chance he had. He manages to grab the boy around his waist and gets them away from the street, back to the tower.

He lands as careful as possible and opens his helmet. “Friday, check on Peter for me.”

“His shoulder is dislocated, sir, and he has suffered a few bruises.”

“Thank God,” Tony groans and puts the boy down, who hasn't said a word yet but is trembling and whimpering while holding his arm. “Peter? Are you okay?”

“It hurts, Mr. Stark,” Peter whines, leaning against Tony's chest. Tony has to swallow down the words already on his tongue before he settles with:

“It's okay, you'll be fine.” Tony is sweating and close to panicking himself, but he has to stay calm, he has to. For Peter. “I gotta relocate your shoulder, kid, you think you can take that?”

“Please Mr. Stark,” Peter cries, his fingers desperately trying to find something to hold on. “Make it stop, it hurts so much!”

“I will, fuck, I promise I will.” Tony bites his lips and carefully pushes Peter back enough so he can get out of his suit. He can't do this while wearing it, he might rip the boys arm off if he so much as tries. As soon as the suit is gone Peter is back in his arms, clutching his shirt, and Tony hates himself for being turned on by the boys tears and sobs. What the fuck is wrong with him?

As careful and gentle as possible Tony pushes Peter away again. 

“It's gonna hurt, but not for long, okay?”

Peter nods and presses his free hand against his face. Tears are rolling down his cheeks and Tony has to fight the urge to pull him back into his arms. Later, when he fixed what he caused.

“Look at me, Pete, can you do that?”

Peter nods and after a moment looks up, his eyes and cheeks red and wet and in so much pain that it breaks Tony's heart.

“Keep looking at me, okay, kid? I'll count to three and then it'll be over. Just a moment of pain, I promise.”

“O-Okay, sir,” Peter sniffs, trying hard to not cry even more or sob. Tony knows this will be painful, but it has to be done.

“One… two…”

He pulls hard on Peter's arm before the boy realizes what is happening. He screams out, so loud it feels like a shrapnel in Tony's ears. A second later the boy collapses into his arms and he catches him, heart racing in his chest.

“Three,” he sighs.

Peter doesn't sob and he doesn't cry. He's quiet against Tony's chest and for a moment he almost thinks the boy passed out, but then it happens. Peter moves and suddenly moans - actually moans - 'Mr. Stark!’ and every single cell in Tony's body reacts.

That voice… those  _ words _ ! No, no this can't be…

Tony pushes Peter away, eyes wide and his pulse racing like never before. He stares at the boy in front of him, so vulnerable and yet so pretty in his pain it makes his chest ache and his stomach tighten. It has to be coincidence, it just has to be.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter says quietly, not looking up. “I think I… I overheated them or something… I'm sorry. I won't do that anymore, I'll be good, I promise!”

_ Oh God, don't say you'll be good! Fuck, don't say it like that! Don't say it like… _

He needs to get away.  _ Now _ . He can't look at Peter, he can't get those words out of his head, he can't even tell if what just happened was real or not. Peter calls out for him, confused and scared, but Tony can't turn back. He would have done it any other day, but right now he's scared of himself, of what he might do in his state.

It's a panic attack in the making, Tony had had enough to realize this much. He can barely breathe and his hands are sweating, not to mention the nauseous feeling that's growing every second. There's no way to prevent it, so Tony does the next best thing and accepts it will happen, whether he likes it or not.

Twenty minutes. That's how long it takes before Tony can collect himself again, before it stops feeling like his chest will burst and his hands stop shaking. He's holding onto the sink in his bathroom, head hung low because he still feels like he's going to throw up any second, but just like before nothing happens.

Panic attacks like this one, when he has time to brace himself and knows what happens, have one major advantage: they reveal more truth than those who just create fear. But this time he's not thankful for that.

“It was him,” Tony whispers, forcing himself to look at his reflection in the mirror. He looks awful, as if he has been drinking for three days in a row without any sleep and he'd laugh about it if it weren't for the fact he just understood what actually happened a week ago. “All this time… all this time I've been watching him…”

This is it, this is his lowest point. As if it wasn't enough that he has imagined Peter while watching this boy. No, his fantasy had been real all along, without him realizing it. More and more images come back to his mind, all so obviously Peter, he doesn't even have to try to make things up. The gestures alone… he should have known. He should have  _ known _ there were too many coincidences…

“Mr. Stark?”

Peter's voice, still scared and now also undoubtedly worried, breaks through the silence of the bathroom, startling Tony. He takes a deep breath, trying to stop more guilt from taking over him.

“I'm okay,” he says with a shaky voice, too aware of how weak he sounds right now. But he has to keep it together, he just has to. He can't let Peter know, not like this.

“Did I… did I do something wrong?” Peter asks hesitantly and Tony feels his chest tighten all over again.

_ No, Peter. I did something wrong. I did something so terribly wrong… _

Tony forces himself away from the sink, hoping he's not looking too scary when he opens the door. He expects a reaction when Peter sees him, what he doesn't expect is that the boy throws himself forward, arms around his neck and starts crying against his chest. All he can do is stand there and hold him while thinking of puppies and car crashes and Hulk to suppress any and all reaction between his legs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter sobs, face buried against Tony's shirt and clinging to him as if he's drowning. “I'll be more careful, I promise! I didn't mean to break them, I'm so sorry…”

“Shh, come on now, you didn't do anything wrong, kid.” Tony knows who's to blame and it's not Peter. It's his fault, he fucked up while calibrating his shooters because he was too distracted from what he was doing - or from what he wanted to do. “You're safe, that's all that matters.”

It takes quite some time before Peter manages to stop crying, at which point he pulls back and tries to hide the extreme blush on his cheeks. Tony drops his hands, balling them to fists instead of giving into the urge to reach out for Peter to pull him back - it’s better if he stays away from him. Tony doesn’t trust himself further than an inch anymore.

“I’ll fix them for you, kid, you go home and make sure to take it easy.” Tony’s voice is low and stiff, just like he is, and Peter nods in return, without turning around again.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” he mumbles, grabs his backpack from the couch and leaves without another word.

Tony stares at the elevator doors for a minute after they closed, unable to move just yet. A few minutes later he drops onto the couch, face buried in his hands and finally allowing himself to process all that happened, not just now, but over the whole last week.

There is no way Peter didn’t realize who he was actually talking to during that call. Tony is sure the boy has altered his voice, but he didn’t think about that. And what’s even worse, he actually turned his camera on and didn’t even bother to take of his damn watch that Peter has seen on his wrist for months. How much worse can it get from here?

Tony is in big fucking trouble and he knows it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Tony comes back to the stream, he does it with a plan. He still doesn't know if his assumption is right or not, but he has to know, he just has to, and he's both excited and terrified at the idea of him actually being Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got a bit short, I'm sorry for that!

When he logs back into the livestream the next day, his hands are shaking. The worst idea he ever had and he’s too weak to stop himself, impressive. Before he comes online he can see that there are plenty of others in the chat already, but thanks to his status as the boy’s top donor there’s a small message popping up when he logs in and Tony can see the small jump the boy makes when it happens. He leans back and waits.

A minute passes before a small chat box pops up, a private one.

_"I missed you, Mr. Stark. I thought you got tired of me."_

Tony knows he shouldn’t be as flattered as he is, but he can’t help it. He lets out a shuddered breath, fingers flying over the keyboard.

_"I'd never get tired of you, baby. I just had a busy week. Are you free in an hour?"_

The boy needs a few minutes to reply because the chat is exploding and he responds to the messages quickly, then a little ping announces a new message for Tony.

_“Depends on who’s asking.”_

Tony smirks. As cocky as always. He doesn’t know what he expected.

_"Daddy's asking. Double the price from last time."_

_“I’ll call you.”_

_“One hour. I’m waiting.”_

When Tony logs off his stomach feels like it’s turning upside down. Does he really want to do this, now that he knows it’s Peter and not a stranger? Or better, now that he is pretty damn _sure_ it’s Peter? But the answer is simple; yes. He wants to do it and he wants to punch himself for it.

An hour never felt this long. Tony paces his workshop, looks for his suits, gets a drink - and when he comes back not even five minutes have passed. By the time the boy finally calls he’s a completely nervous mess. He drops into his chair, taking the call with a shaking hand.

The screen flickers and then the boy is there, as pretty as Tony remembers, and his breath hitches. He wears a red robe that he has seen before and that he knows the boy uses to act shy and innocent and this alone does so many things to him that it shouldn't.

"Hey, Daddy," the boy purrs, making Tony's cock jerk up immediately. "Did you miss me?"

"More than you can imagine, baby," Tony moans, licking over his lips. He gropes himself through his pants, trying to keep it together. "I couldn't come back earlier, I’m sorry."

"Is Daddy stressed?" the boy asks, slowly trailing a hand down his chest and chuckling. "Maybe I can help a bit with that..."

He’s a sin, a beautiful and dangerous sin, and Tony is nothing but a sinner in desperation. Did he ever stood a chance to begin with or was his fate sealed the second he laid eyes on Peter for the first time? Tony wishes knowing the answer to this question would change anything, but it really won’t. Nothing will. He's lost, he fell and nothing will take that back.

"I hoped so." Tony is hard and he wants to hear this pretty boy moan his name again, but he can't stop thinking about what he knows now. "Can you do something for me, baby?"

“Anything for you, Daddy,” the boy purrs, as sweet and as innocent and possible.

Tony hesitates for a moment. What if he's wrong? What if it was just coincidence that Peter said the same thing and he's making a fool out of himself right now? No, it doesn't matter. Even if that's the case, he has to know. If it’s not Peter he can move on, if it is… well. Something will happen in that case too, even if he doesn’t know what it will be yet.

“Let me hear your voice, baby,” he finally says, as calm and collected as possible.

The boy stills, hand resting on his chest. Tony waits. There is still the chance that this isn't as messed up as he thinks it is, but it's a slim one.

"M-my voice, Daddy?" The boy asks eventually, his voice shaking. "But you... you're hearing it now."

"No, your _real_ voice," Tony replies. The boy hesitates, which makes it even clearer that he’s trying to hide something. "That's not it, is it? You're altering it right now."

“I… I don’t think I can do that, I’m sorry…”

"I bet it sounds as pretty as you look," Tony says slowly, trying to coo the boy into giving him a hint. "I'd give anything to hear you moan with your real voice."

Tony watches the screen curiously, waiting for the boy to speak again. He doesn’t. Instead, he shifts uncomfortably on his knees, hands on his lap and Tony hates it. This isn’t what he wants, he doesn't want him to feel uncomfortable, so he tries a different way.

“Baby boy?” Tony asks as sweet as possible, banishing all anger from his voice. It takes a few second before the boy reacts. When he does, his voice is still trembling and utterly silent.

“Y-yes, Daddy?”

"It's okay if you don't want to, I'm not mad." He isn't, not at all. Maybe he wants to hold onto this fantasy, maybe he is scared to find out the truth himself. Whatever the reason, he’d rather have the boy relax again than push this matter even further.

"I do but... I can't," the boy says softly.

 _Oh Peter, I know... I wish I could tell you I know,_ Tony thinks and runs a hand through his hair. This is such a huge mess, how did he manage to get into it so deep?

"I thought about you a lot this week, baby." Tony says after a while, if only to break the silence that feels way too loud. "It was a rough week and yesterday I nearly got someone killed…”

"I... I thought about you a lot too, Mr. Stark," the boy replies, visibly relaxing at the calm tone Tony speaks with. But still, he keeps fiddling at his rope nervously, which Tony can’t help but dislike. "What happened yesterday? Did you get hurt?"

"I didn't, but Pe- a friend did. I fucked up, it's my fault." Tony doesn't know why he brought this up in the first place but he kind of wants to see the boys reaction, even if the memory isn't nice. "I don’t know how it happened but I saw him fall and… I almost lost it.”

"What... What happened then?"

"I caught him, thank God, I caught him," Tony groans, covering his eyes with one hand. "I almost didn’t make it and panicked and all this time I could hear him… he was so damn scared... and I was too.” He pauses for a moment, images of Peter falling flashing before his eyes. He shakes his head to banish them again. “I don’t know what I would do if I hadn’t caught him… I could never forgive myself if he died because of me.”

There's a long moment of silence and then he hears it, so quiet it could have been his imagination too. But he doesn't believe it's imagination, he doesn't want to believe it is. It’s just one word, but it’s enough to send a cold shiver down his spine.

" _Tony..._ "

His heart skips a few beats. No, this wasn’t his imagination, he _heard_ it. Quiet, not meant for his ears, but he heard it.

“Yes, my little spider?” Tony doesn’t know why he says it, but the reaction is something he cannot miss. The boy flinches as if he’s been slapped and soaks in the air sharply. When he tries to speak, his words come out stammered.

“W-What did you say, Daddy?”

Tony gives himself a moment to calm down before he softly says: “Peter… _I know_.”

The boy doesn’t reply, all Tony can hear is heavy breathing, so heavy, in fact, that he almost fears he’s jumping straight into a panic attack himself. He doesn’t have much time to think, so he does the first thing that comes to his mind and turns on his own camera, pushing it up so Peter can see him.

“You knew it’s me, didn’t you?”

For a second, the boy is frozen on the bed. Then, he suddenly jolts up and runs. Tony can hear what happens because Peter didn’t turn off his camera or the mic and it’s a constant stream of ‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck’ and loud bangs. It sounds like the boy is demolishing everything around him and when Tony hears the heart wrenching sobs that swallow half of Peter’s curses, he can’t take it anymore.

“Peter,” Tony’s voice takes on the firm, slightly disappointed tone it often has if Peter disobeys him in real life. “Come back here right _now_.”

He doesn’t think it will work or that Peter even hears him over his sobs and panic, but after a minute a hand appears on the bed and then the boy crawls back onto it. Then, he just sits there with his hands between his legs, sniffing and sobbing. He looks defeated, Tony thinks, even without seeing all of him. Crushed. Destroyed, even.

“Peter, show me your face.”

The boy complies and raises a trembling hand, turning the camera so Tony can see him. He keeps looking at the hands on his lap, but Tony can see the tears in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall.

Tony’s heart feels like it’s going to break. “Now Peter, I want you to be a good boy, and be honest with me,” he states. “When did you know it was me?”

Peter sniffs and closes his eyes, causing his tears to fall and roll down his cheeks. "When I heard you the first time..." he whispers ashamed, looking like he wants to disappear on the spot. "I heard your voice and I... I knew..."

Tony can’t suppress a quiet sigh. He expected this answer and yet he feels almost overwhelmed when he hears it come from Peter himself.

“And yet you let me call you Peter and called me Mr. Stark… why?” He wants to know if it’s the same reason he had for this, badly.

“I… I liked it,” Peter admits, without looking up. It’s like he wants to do it, his head is jerking ever so slightly, but in the end he just keeps it down. But even like this, Tony can see the flush on his face that makes him even prettier than he usually is. “I thought… you didn’t know it was me and I wanted to see what you would do…”

“I didn’t know,” Tony says softly, letting out a sigh he cannot suppress. “I didn’t know until yesterday… but you knew and kept going.”

Peter’s whole body shudders and he sobs hard, more tears falling down onto his hands. “Just… just say it,” he cries, each word filled with utter self hatred. “I’m disgusting... I’m a pervert, a disappointment… just say it, I know I am…”

Tony just stares at the crying boy, his chest so tight it’s almost impossible to breathe. He can’t believe Peter puts the blame for this on himself, seemingly without even thinking about putting any of it on him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark… I’m sorry for being like this… I know you’re mad and I deserve it, I’m so sorry…”

Every single word feels like a knife that pushes into his heart when he hears it. No, Tony isn’t angry. There’s no anger in him, just shame and guilt and this overwhelming need to pull the boy into his arms just so he will stop crying.

“Shh, baby, don’t say such things,” Tony finally says, voice thick and sweet as honey, which only makes Peter sob even harder. “It’s okay, I promise. You did nothing wrong, baby. I’m the one who fucked up, I shouldn’t want you the way I do, but that’s not your fault.”

Peter’s breath hitches and he finally moves, if only to wipe his eyes. It looks like he wants to say something and Tony curses the fact that they are so far apart.

“I’m sorry, sir, I know I should have said something…”

“Baby, look at me.”

Slowly, Peter raises his head and finally, finally looks at Tony again. His eyes are red from crying so much, just like his cheeks and his face shimmers from all the tears he has shed.

“Did you mean what you said? What you did? Do you truly want me like this?”

Peter nods slowly, biting his trembling bottom lip as he’s searching for words. His chest is heaving so much, as if breathing is a fight for him, which brings even more guilt up in Tony.

“I… I do…” he finally sniffs before shaking his head vigorously. “I… I want you for so long already…”

“I hoped you would say that,” Tony sighs relieved, feeling as if someone had lifted a giant boulder from his chest. “Now, tell me. Do you trust me, baby?”

Peter’s breath goes faster again and his eyes widen slightly. It’s an important question and Tony doesn’t push it, he needs Peter to answer truthfully and is willing to wait. While he does, however, he pulls up a second screen next to him and starts going through commands and protocols. Over two minutes pass before Peter finally answers, his voice quiet and shy.

“I do. I trust you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s lips jerk into a faint smile when he looks back at the boy, a gentle expression on his face.

“Good boy. Now, I want you to open your window, Peter,” he says firmly, giving the boy a slight nod when he sees confusion on his face. “Then, I want you to go and pack what you think you’ll need over the weekend.”

Before Peter can do more than stare at him, Tony ends the call and the window closes. He’s grabbing straws now and takes a risk bigger than any other he took in the past, but he doesn’t care about the consequences. Not this time, not with this boy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter doesn't know what to expect, but it surely isn't Tony wanting him with him. However needy the boy is though, it looks like there are some more obstacles to go past, which come in unexpected ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer to make up for the shorter last chapter ;)

Peter stares at the screen in complete shock, trying desperately to find sense in what Mr. Stark just did. Open the window… why would he want him to open the window? And why did he tell him to pack things he needs over the-

It finally clicks. Peter’s eyes widen even more when he jumps off the bed and rushes over to the window, ripping it open so fast the frame smashes against the wall. Then, he grabs his backpack and starts throwing stuff onto his bed, not even looking at what he grabs. He doesn't know why he's so frantic when he starts stuffing things into his backpack, but he can't stop it. His hands are shaking, he's still crying and he's so scared and ashamed that he can barely think, but he keeps going as if something else controls him.

Less than five minutes pass before he suddenly hears a metallic noise and spins around, facing one of Mr. Stark’s suits that comes to a halt in front of his window. His eyes tear up again, completely against his will, and he lets out a whimper.

“Shh, baby, no need to cry.” Tony’s voice, kind of mechanic due to coming from inside the suit. Peter nods and wipes his eyes, dropping the socks he for some reason still held onto.

“I… I’m not done yet…” he says apologetically, blushing because he can’t even do this one thing right. He looks over at the bed, at the huge mess he has created without coming anywhere close to actually packing. “I… I’m sorry…”

“Come here, kid,” Tony says and as if he’s been waiting for it, Peter stumbles forward, right into the outstretched arms of the suit. He doesn’t care that the the embrace is hard and cold, he doesn’t care that it feels like he’s being wrapped in metal. He’s embarrassed and ashamed and wants to hide his face, but being held, even like this, manages to soothe him a bit. Not much, but he is still thankful for it.

“Take your time, baby. Just take what you need, I’ll get you anything else.”

Peter nods when Tony pulls back and frees him, eyes moving to the bed again.

“Are you… not mad at me?” he asks, scared of the answer he knows he should get. His bottom lip is trembling and he can’t stop it. “I… I said such filthy things…”

He meant all of them, for the first time being truthful in a private conversation with someone like that. But it feels... wrong somehow. As much as it feels good, which absolutely confuses him to no end.

Tony lets out a soft sigh before saying: “Of course I’m not mad, Peter. Maybe a little jealous you said those things to everyone else too, but-”

“I never meant it when I said those things to them,” Peter interrupts Tony, face flushing dark pink again. He’s glad that his back his turned at the other because he doesn’t know if he could look at him saying this. “It’s… an act. So they pay. But with you…”

Can he say it? He should, after everything he has said and done for Mr. Stark, after all those weeks and months he should be able to say it. But it still feels so weird when he actually does.

"I actually meant it. What I said... at the end. I meant everything I said to you…”

“I’m glad you say that,” Tony says with a smile in his voice and a cold hand caresses Peter’s shoulder for a moment. “Now, be a good boy and pack. I want you here with me soon.”

Peter nods and finally manages to crack a smile, unable to hide the blush on his cheeks. It seems so surreal, like a dream or something similar. It feels like he's floating on air and he loves it.

He only takes a few minutes before he has packed everything and managed to scribble down a note for his aunt to make sure she doesn't worry about him - after turning off his computer of course and unlocking his room's door. He also changes the red robe for some shorts and a shirt, just for convenience. He does take the robe with him, however, because he knows Tony likes it.

When he shoulders his bag and looks at Tony though, he feels rather dumb again. "Are you... really okay with this?" he asks, hopeful and yet so scared of the possible rejection.

“Of course I am, darling,” Tony says gently. The suit takes Peter’s backpack from him and then opens, revealing that it’s empty inside. “Get in, sweet boy.”

“I-I don’t know how to fly, Mr. Stark!” Peter squeeks, eyes wide and taking a step back.

Tony laughs amused while the suit shoulders Peter’s belongings. “I’ll fly it, darling, don’t worry. You just get in and enjoy it. See it as a treat for being such a good boy.”

Peter’s cheeks feel hot again, but he doesn’t talk back. He’s not sure if Mr. Stark knows that this is more than a treat for him or not, but it is. Despite those newly discovered and highly inappropriate feelings he has for him, Iron Man is still his hero - _Tony_ still is. He wanted to be Iron Man for so many years, ever since he has seen him the first time. Tony allowing him to fly in one of his suits is one of his biggest dreams coming to life and still… he’s a bit scared.

The boy swallows hard and finally nods. He's shaking, but he trusts Mr. Stark. He trusts him. So, he summons all his courage and steps into the suit, like he has seen it so often, and closes his eyes. The metal closes around him and after a moment the UI starts to flicker and turns on.

"You'll make me fly, sir?" he asks softly and in a small frame on the screen, Mr. Stark's face shows up suddenly. He looks into those gentle and warm eyes he loves so much, a smile spreading on his lips.

"I'll make you fly so high, baby," Tony promises, right before Peter feels the suit power up. "Relax, enjoy the feeling."

Seconds later he is out of the window and it’s an experience like nothing he ever imagined. He never flew, not like this. What he does in his own suit doesn’t even come close to this. His stomach twists, his head feels light and despite having no control whatsoever, which is something he knows he should be terrified of, it's an absolutely thrilling and mind blowing thing.

Peter expected Tony to take him to the tower right away, but instead he’s pulling off a show for the boy, spins and flies loopings, shoots down and up again so fast Peter’s stomach turns upside down. He squeals more than once, adrenaline rushing through his system and making it impossible to keep his excitement in.

It’s more than just the rush of flying, though. He’s inside Mr. Stark’s suit, inside of something he has worn before and has fought in. Something that is as much a part of himself as his arc reactor is. Just thinking about this makes his heart flutter and his hands shake. It’s mind blowing in every possible way.

_Maybe he never wore this suit before…_

As if he can read his mind, Tony’s voice suddenly rings in Peter’s ears again, his words washing over him like warm rain.

“I wore this suit for training this morning. How do you like it?”

Peter shudders and Tony spins in the air again, sending tingling sensations through the boy’s whole body. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, smiling at the faint scent of the cologne Tony uses all the time.

“It almost feels like you,” Peter whispers softly and sighs. “It’s incredible.”

He knows Tony monitors him through the sensors in the suit, so he knows exactly how excited he is and, well… that he’s more than a little aroused too. He feels almost naked with the little bit that he’s wearing and just imagining having Mr. Stark all around him - which is pretty much exactly what it feels like - makes him hard already.

“Peter, baby,” Tony finally speaks again, obviously amused. “What’s making you so hard, sweetheart?”

Peter shudders again, letting out a whimper. "You..." he moans, realizing he's becoming even harder at this. "This... everything. It's so hot, Daddy... it's just so good."

It's the first time he calls Tony Daddy after this... revelation and it makes him blush so much. It makes him realize he wants to call him that, that it's part of what makes all of this so perfect and filthy and exactly what he needs.

Tony chuckles. “You’re still a minute away, baby,” he murmurs as the suit speeds up and finally heads towards the Stark Tower. “Are you going to be okay?”

"I... I'm okay," Peter gulps, but he's far from okay because all of this is just so much. He still thinks he's dreaming, that this can't be happening. But it does, it certainly does.

He tries to focus on the display, on the number that rapidly goes down as he approaches his destination and breathes. Just breathes and begs he won't cum in Mr. Stark's suit like the horny teenager he is.

Tony waits on the balcony, Peter can see him before he even lands. Once that’s out of the way though, he suddenly feels nervous again, even more than before. He’s so hard it’s embarrassing and he realizes that this is the first time he will be close to Mr. Stark after… after he found out what happened.

“Don’t you want to come out, Peter?” Tony asks after a long moment without and reaction coming from the boy and he squirms in the suit, letting out the breath he held.

Peter hesitantly steps out of the suit, looking down shyly and blushing and still so embarrassed it makes him want to disappear. And then Tony's hands are on his back and he's pulled against him, the older man's face buried in his hair, and it feels a bit like coming home.

"Baby," Tony whispers, his voice dark and arousing and so fucking perfect it makes Peter shudder. "I can't believe you're here, I can't believe this is real."

He clings to Tony so hard his fingers start to hurt, but he wants to be close to him, so so much. “Mr. Stark…” he whispers, fighting against the tremble in his voice. “Are you… sure about this? I’m sorry I made you feel this way, I didn’t mean to get you into trouble…”

He feels so guilty for all of this. For his own feelings, for not stopping what happened the second he realized he was talking to Tony, for allowing this to continue and for encouraging it because he wanted to satisfy his own curiosity and needs.

"Baby, don't be sorry," Tony whispers, pressing a tender kiss on the boys hair. He remembers all the things he said and made Peter do while being lost in this fantasy, things that are what could truly get him into trouble even though he doesn't care about that right now. "I had no idea it was you... if anyone should be sorry it's me."

Peter looks up with tears in his eyes. “But I knew and I encouraged you,” he sniffs. “What if someone finds out? Everyone would hate you just because of me! I didn’t stop it when I realized it was you, I put you in danger, I-”

"Hey, it's okay kid, really," Tony stops him, wiping the tears from the boy’s eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay? I asked for this, I wanted this... and God, I don't care how wrong it is. You're all I want, Peter."

“Mr. Stark, I…” Peter bites his lip, not sure whether he’s taking it too far with what he’s about to say or not. “When I streamed… I… I always imagined it was you ordering me around.”

Tony's chest tightens at those words and he pushes Peter back slightly, frowning. Ordering him around... why is this thought making his stomach coil so deliciously? He looks into the boys pretty, tear wet eyes, his cock leaving no doubt about how turned on he is by this thought.

"How did you feel when you knew it was me? When I asked to call you Peter?" He asks, brushing his thumb over the boy's cheek. "When I told you all those things?"

Peter’s cheeks flush and he leans back against Tony’s chest, hiding his face. “Before you called me… when I stretched myself, I imagined I was doing it for you. Then I heard your voice and I almost gave myself away just then…” He remembers it as if it happened less than an hour ago. How fast his heart was beating, how he could barely control his voice.

“I thought it must be coincidence, nothing more, but then you asked to call me Peter and… I had to ask who he is. I had to be sure. And then I wondered if you’ve been looking for a camboy who looked like me…”

"I did," Tony admits, smiling softly. God, it had taken him weeks to find Peter's channel, to find someone who could fulfill his fantasies as much as he did. "I tried so hard to not do anything dumb, so I searched for someone I could pretend was you..."

Peters face turns a bright red and looks away. “I saw you, during the battle for New York. I was only 11 and you were already my hero, but you saved my life and I felt so utterly blessed. When I was 13...” He trails off, biting his tongue. No, he can’t tell Mr. Stark that. It’s too wrong, too dirty.

Tony is more surprised than shocked, but he wants to hear more. He rests his palm against Peter's cheek, the soft skin burning hot. "Tell me, baby. What happened when you were 13?"

Peter looks back at Tony and swallows, his eyes dreamy. “I laid under my poster of you, in your suit with the helmet off, and… I touched myself for the first time while staring at it.”

Fuck, that's the hottest thing Tony ever heard. He presses his fingers against Peter's cheek without even realizing it, letting out a slow breath. "How did it feel?" He whispers, fighting to restrain himself. He's growing hard again, so much, and it feels so damn good. Filthy, but good. "Did you imagine me touching you?"

Peter can barely speak. He’s so embarrassed but Tony’s eyes are so hungry, so full of need. He swallows his shame down as much as he can before answering.

“I thought about meeting you and… showing you the things I designed. That you were impressed and told me how to make them even better and it was really nice. Innocent. Then… I thought about you taking me into your workshop and I remembered photos I had seen, those where you are working down there shirtless…”

"Fuck, kid, you make me want to take you down there and do all kinds of bad things to you," Tony growls, wrapping an arm around Peter's waist and pulling him closer. He can't believe the boy had those thoughts for years, a shame he only knows him for a few months. "Tell me what you did. What you imagined I would could do to you."

Peter moans softly. Mr. Stark wants this as much as he does. “I imagined designing a new circuit board and you stood behind me, pressing against my back and taking my hands to show me how to do it better.” He gulps, suddenly aware of the man’s hands shoving under his shirt and shuddering at the amazing feeling those fingers created inside of him. “I imagined how your bare chest would feel against my back… how your cock would feel against it…”

“Keep going, baby,” Tony moans close to Peter’s ear, making the boy’s breath hitch.

“I imagined how... you’d tell me I got my shirt dirty and helped me get it off and then how your skin would feel on mine and how hard your cock would be against my ass… how your hand would wrap around mine and squeezed… that’s when I closed my eyes and I could almost feel your hand around my cock, squeezing, stroking, so I bucked my hips and ground them until I came…”

"Damn, such filthy thoughts," Tony hisses, pressing his hand tight against Peter's back. He loves to hear the boy say such things, it makes his pants feel three sizes too small. He leans closer, bringing his lips to Peter's ears before moaning: "Tell me you came hard at the thought of my cock pressing against your perfect little ass, baby."

Peter moans, nodding weakly. “I touched myself through my jeans, and I thought about it being your hand, and how you’d grind against my lower back… I was too small for your cock to fit.”

"You mean... like this?" Tony asks with a smirk, pressing a hand against the prominent bulge in Peter's pants. The boy squirms so beautifully and gasps, clinging to him even harder than before. He has never seen anything so intoxicating.

“D-Daddy! We’re still outside!” He gasps. His clothes feel so thin suddenly and he becomes embarrassingly aware of the fact they didn’t move an inch yet. “No one… no one ever touched me like that before… I-I didn’t even kiss anyone but Liz before.”

"Shh, baby," Tony soothes the boy, brushing a hand through his hair and slowly moving the other between his legs. "No one can see us, you don't have to worry."

He can't believe that Peter is truly as innocent as he imagined he would be, never touched, barely even kissed. He wonders…

"Would you like Daddy to kiss you, Peter?" He asks, voice husky and needy.

Tony’s voice sounds so dirty asking for only a kiss, but Peter nods immediately. “Yes, Daddy! But I… I don’t know how.” He never kissed anyone properly, he thinks. What happened with Liz was… not much. He knows it’s not what Tony has in mind and it makes him nervous.

Tony smiles, a soft and gentle expression that comes almost naturally. "Just relax and do what feels right," he says, laying a finger on Peter's chin to turn his head. He looks at him for a moment, unable to do anything but admire everything about the boy.

"You're so pretty Peter," he whispers, finger brushing over his jaw before he leans in and seals his lips with his own, closing his eyes.

Peter keeps his eyes open, a little awkward maybe, but he can hardly believe Mr. Stark is kissing him. After a moment though, his eyes flutter shut, their lips part and then reconnect, Tony guiding the kiss. Peter feels Tony’s tongue against his lips and moans, hand scrunching in the man’s expensive suit.

Tony doesn't know when he last kissed someone like this, but it's unbelievably thrilling. Peter is shy, so perfectly shy and allows him to take the lead, which he does slowly while resting a hand around his neck. Peter barely moves his lips, as if he's afraid to do something wrong, but it still feels like heaven. He tilts his head slightly, gently scraping his teeth over Peter's bottom lip until he opens his mouth.

There's an overwhelming sweetness when he lets his tongue explore the boy's mouth carefully, one that gets to his head more than it should. Peter holds onto him with trembling hands and he can feel him sink against his chest. It's absolutely delightful.

When Tony finally pulls back to make sure Peter won't just faint, he opens his eyes to see a pretty flush on the boy's cheeks. "You taste so perfect, baby."

Peter whimpers and kisses him again desperately. He wants more and Tony gives him more, kissing him deeply and possessively, so much it makes his head spin.

“Begging your pardon, Sir.” It’s Friday’s voice coming from the iron suit.

Tony growls before pushing Peter away carefully, cursing Friday for forcing him to ruin this moment he didn't want to end. For a second he contemplates to just tell Friday to shut off, but he knows that's a bad idea.

"What's the matter?" He asks sharply, leaving no doubt about his annoyance. "This better be important."

“Rhodey will arrive in the room behind you in around 30 seconds, Sir,” she answers. “You told me to alert you if you were committing a federal crime and someone could watch you,” she reminds him and Peter remembers the AI watches everything that happens in the tower, even out here. This doesn’t go according to plan at all...

"Fuck," Tony hisses and suddenly starts pushing Peter back, towards his suit. He forgot Rhodey was supposed to come over, how fucking stupid.

"Mr. Stark, what-"

"I'm sorry, baby," Tony says as gentle as possible as he pushes Peter back into the suit. He pecks his lips quickly, feeling frustrated and nervous just the same. "I'll try to make this quick, just stay still okay? It's alright, I promise."

The suit closes the second the elevator doors open and Rhodey walks into the room, giving Tony just enough time to act as if he's working on it.

Peter is horrified because Rhodey is such a hero, just like Mr. Stark, even for him. He’s his best friend too. What if he catches them and gets angry at Mr. Stark?

The commanding way Tony pushed him into the suit and kissed him just before it closes left Peter hot against his will. And then, trapped in the metal suit with flushed cheeks and a hard cock and the taste of Tony’s tongue still in his mouth, Peter hears Rhodey’s greeting.

“Tony, where have you been man?”

"Busy as always," Tony replies, hoping his voice doesn't sound as bothered as he feels. He turns around, pretending to wipe off dirt from his hands. "Why the sudden call? You need the suit repaired again? I told you to look out for mountains."

Rhodey laughs and shakes his head, oblivious to the torture both Tony and Peter are going through.

"The suit is fine, don't worry. I called you because of the project we talked about a while ago, the tower in Dubai? The sheikh doubled his offer, looks like he really wants the green energy you're providing."

Tony rolls his eyes annoyed. Of course it has to be something he thought he was over with already.

"Tell him to kiss my ass, Rhodes. You know they'll try to use the technology for weapons the second they have it."

The men’s voices fade when Peter realizes that his position is more than troublesome. While he was flying it didn’t matter that he was a few inch shorter than Tony, but now that he’s standing his cock is pressed against the metal hard. It causes so much pressure it starts to hurt and Peter can’t stop himself from grinding against the metal, biting his bottom lip hard to stay quiet. He can’t cover his mouth with his arms trapped at his sides, so that’s all he is able to do to not give himself away.

Tony tries to hurry the conversation with Rhodey to end this, but it still takes ten painfully long minutes before they are finally through. The moment Rhodey is out of sight, Tony turns around and scurries back to the suit.

"Friday, open!"

The boy nearly falls into his arms, cheeks flushing, tears shimmering in his eyes and panting. Tony catches him, worry all over his face. The boy’s lips are swollen and red, his eyes teary and his skin red and it makes his heart ache.

"Peter, are you alright? What's wrong?" He pulls the boy back on his feet, his hot skin burning against his own. "Baby..."

Peter tries to speak, but it’s like the words have disappeared from his mind. He leans forward instead of answering, kisses Tony deeply. It’s rushed, it’s clumsy and it’s everything as beautiful as it could be. He starts grinding against Tony’s leg while pressing close to him, eager to find the friction that felt so amazing before again. He doesn’t know if his hormones are turning him into such a filthy thing or if that’s all on him, but it doesn’t matter.

Tony moans shakily when Peter kisses him again, holding onto him tight and closing his eyes at the boy's almost desperate grinding against him. He starts to understand what Peter has been doing in the suit and it's a damn hot thought that goes straight between his legs.

"You're so needy, baby," Tony murmurs when he breaks free for some air, entranced by how breathless and worked up Peter is. He's so hard against his leg, it's insane. "Tell me what you want."

Peter is so used to spouting dirty line after line on camera. He knows how to tease and flirt, he knows how to work Tony up. And yet, in person he can't get the words out, can barely mutter: "I want you to... to have me.” He pants heavily and it makes him feel so weak.

"Oh, but I have you already, baby," Tony says sweetly, turning them around a bit. He starts leading Peter inside, relishing how much he clings to him and how he's still shaking. It's a bit mean to pretend he doesn't know what Peter wants, but he can't help it.

"So pretty after working yourself up like that... I will enjoy using this suit a lot, now that I know what you did in there."

Peter feels like he’ll never stop feeling embarrassed. His face is burning and he almost wants to deny what he has done, even though it’s so obvious. Tony just has to check the sensors of his suit to know exactly what he did.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers, clinging to Tony’s shirt. “I want you to…”

"Yes, Peter?" Tony asks innocently as they step inside and he closes the door behind them. God, he wants the boy so badly, acting as if he doesn't is like torture. He makes this harder, of course, but he can see that Peter is fighting with himself and his struggle is too pretty to resist. "Come on, tell me what you want."

Peter feels so tongue tied, this is just stupid. He has teased and made Tony beg him so many times before, but now he can’t even get a few words out.

“Please, I... I want you to fuck me, Daddy,” he stutters stepping in front of Tony. He tries to remember everything he knows about teasing him and takes Tony's tie slowly, twisting it between his fingers.

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But Tony knows he will, there is nothing he can do against any of this. When Peter plays with his tie, Tony lets out a low growl and pulls him into a harsh and deep kiss. Fuck, it's sick how much he wants him, but he can't stop it.

"I'll fuck you so good, baby," he moans against Peter's lips, holding him possessively by his hips. “Daddy will fuck you so good you'll forget your own name.”

"Sir?" Friday interrupts them once more and Tony is close to snapping.

"What _now_?" He snarls and turns around, glaring into the room.

"I have to inform you that what you are about to do is illegal in the state of New York and I can't-"

"We've been through this, Friday! You're only supposed to tell me if I will be caught!"

"But Sir, Mr. Parker is-"

"Enough!" Tony barks. "One more word and I will gift you to the nearest pre-school. Now shut up, this is none of your business."

After a few seconds Friday finally shuts up and Tony lets out a sigh of relief. He turns back around, cupping Peter's face gently. "Where were we, baby?"

Peter likes the way to Tony shouts, so clearly desperate to have him. He leans into the hand and strokes up Tony’s tie. “You, you were going to fuck me, Daddy,” he murmurs, batting his eyelashes.

“Sir, I ran then numbers and I calculated a 90% probability that, if you stay in a public space, Vision will see you and there is a 70% chance he will punch you, with an additional 30% chance he will at once alert the police,” Friday interrupts, sounding annoyed.

"You’ve got to be _kidding_ me!" Tony groans and pinches his nose. "Alright, Friday. How high are the chances if we move to my bedroom?"

"40% of Vision seeing you, 100% of him punching you, 80% he will call the police, Sir," Friday replies, this time sounding almost satisfied.

"What the hell? Why are the numbers going up?"

"I'm afraid if Vision finds you in bed with Mr. Parker you will have little chance to explain the situation, Sir."

Great, it seems like this is going to be much harder than he expected it would be. Tony thinks about all possible options he has, but he can’t find a better one that won’t cause any more trouble. That is, apart from sending Peter home, which he's not going to do.

"Screw it," Tony finally growls, grabbing Peter roughly by his hips again. "Friday, you will put my bedroom on lockdown once we are inside. The full protocol. No one goes in, no one goes out. If Vision shows up, I want you to send him away."

"Where would you like me to send him, Sir?"

"Africa, for all I care."


End file.
